Foe
by Haley Moore
Summary: What's in a foe? Someone you feel a bitter hatred towards. Someone who hates you. An enemy. Some people are not who they seem. Mild swearing.


A Hidden Past A/N: I only own Tara.  
London 1878 10 years ago

Tara was in a break-through on her case. She was after the most notorious criminal London had ever known. William Scott. Mr. Scott was believed to be the reason behind a series of killings, which could only be described as 'grotesque.' She had trailed him down like a sleuth hound, and had finally found the scent that would destroy him. Tara Davis was a bounty hunter, which was rather strange. For she was a woman, and a bounty hunter was hardly a respectable title. She was perhaps, the only female bounty hunter in the world. But that was mainly because sometimes she would pretend to be a man. She had thick black hair which went down to her waist, sparkling emerald eyes, a fair complexion, and rosy red lips. She was rather petite to say the least, around 5", 4.' As you can imagine she was very much so taken for an innocent, little woman. But no bounty hunter was more masterful with a revolver, a colt, a rifle, or a pistol. And now she could put them to good use.

Tara was waiting for her fiancé, Jack Daly. He too was a bounty hunter. They were going to destroy William Scott together. Were.

" Where the bloody 'ell is that man?" Tara wondered aloud. " His train was supposed to be here an hour ago." He was actually only about 10 minutes late, but it felt like an hour. All she wanted to do was get this over with. Then as if right on cue the train came rolling down the tracks of the underground. Everyone was exiting the locomotive. To Tara's suspense Jack came out last. She ran to him, and they became one for a while.

There was no one Tara loved so much. In his embrace she felt as though she was flying above the world, above all the chaos, and the pollution, like a care-free angel soaring the heavens. She ran her hands through his silky brown hair, and gazed into his angel blue eyes, and wondered if she could live the rest of her life without him. "Well, let's get going." Announced Jack, pulling himself away from her. Tara nodded, and they left to William Scott's newly discovered lair, in the west-end docks.

It wasn't to hard getting in to the place. It was in a hidden chamber under a pub. They just started a riot, by throwing a mug of ale at a turned-back seaman, blamed it on another guy, and crept into the tunnel. They were both surprised that Scott did not have any guards guarding the area. The man was a pompous ass. They entered into a large brick doorway. The whole time Tara had been asking herself, "How did he get that down here?" She asked Jack, and Jack whispered, "The pub was built over a collapsed church." William Scott definitely had recourses.

The room was pitch dark. Tara had always had a whispering phobia of that. So she felt around desperately for a match, or a torch. However her search was in vain. A whole string of torches and candles lit up in the room. And standing before them was William Scott.

William Scott was a very tall man. He had spiky black hair, a goatee, cold piercing gray eyes, and a scar across his left eye. Tara smiled knowing that she gave him that during a chase three years ago. (She had been going after him for four and a half years.) William Scott glazed at them in an evil way, and gave them a wicked grinch-like smirk.

"So, you finally found my trail! I thought I would have to send directions, and hire a taxi cab." He said coldly.

"Shut it you bloody snob!" Cried Tara. "Turn yourself in!" William Scott simply raised his hands above his head, and smiled tauntingly. "You've got me, you've got me. I surrender." He said emotionlessly. Tara, and Jack worked their way towards William Scott. Jack holding him at gun range, and Tara with her hand-cuffs. Just then they could feel a small press of medal in their backs. William Scott did have agents.

"I wouldn't move if I were you." Said William Scott. "My agents have impeccably satisfactory aim, particularly at this range." Now it was their turn to "grab the air." William Scott laughed evilly, as they took Jack away leaving Tara, and William Scott alone. 

"You underestimate me Ms. Davis. I hope I don't give the impression of being that dense." Stated William Scott. 

"Do you really wish me to answer that?" Replied Tara. William Scott just chuckled. Then he looked at an agent just entering the room, they both nodded.

"Where's my Jack!" Demanded Tara.

"Oh, I don't think you'll want to see him." Said Scott.

"Damn You! What did you do to him!" Cried a panicked Tara Davis. Scott did not answer.

"I want to see him!" She cried.

"Okay, Don't say I didn't warn you." Just then two agents came carrying a bloody corpse, that had been shot at least ten times. The corpse was Jack Daly.

"You see, I let him go." Smiled William Scott.

"You swine!" Cried Tara. She was so blinded with fury that she grabbed a torch, and threw it upon the carpet, which ignited the whole room.

"You fool!" Exclaimed Scott. "You have damned us all!" But then he realized he had placed a secret exit behind a painting. He pressed a small button hidden on the drawing, the painting turned sideways, and out he went. Tara saw him, and pushed the same tiny button. It lead down a narrow passageway, and out side, under the docks.

William Scott had escaped.

"I will get you William Scott! If it's the last thing I do!" Declared Tara aloud. Her eyes were drowning in tears. She would never rest until she had destroyed that man.

She'd do it for Jack.

"I will get you William Scott! If it's the last thing I do!" William Scott heard this declaration. It had, quite frankly, disturbed him. He turned to run. He had no one now. His lair had been destroyed, as well as all of his contacts. He knew he had to create a temporary incognito.

It had occurred to him that no one knew his full name. Most people had three names, but he had two middle names. So he simply would use the two other names he had. His full name was William Sherlock Scott Holmes.

And thus he became the first consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes.

A/N: So what did you think? Too corney? Let me know if you want another chapter. Personally, I think it could use some work. J 


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